


Stellar Cartography for (Advanced) Beginners

by parcequelle



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Cross-Generational Friendship, Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-21 13:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11358924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcequelle/pseuds/parcequelle
Summary: ‘Naomi Wildman,’ says a voice from high above her. ‘Are you in distress?’





	Stellar Cartography for (Advanced) Beginners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peacerose47](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacerose47/gifts).



> For peacerose47 - I had fun writing this and really hope you enjoy it! :)

The mess hall is full of people who have just finished alpha shift, and Naomi winds her way through a sea of red and yellow and blue, craning her neck until she thinks she spots Neelix’s apron. ‘Neelix!’ she calls. No answer; right at the moment she says it, the group of ensigns sitting near her laughs loudly, and her words get lost. She frowns and tries again. ‘Neeeeelix!’

‘Naomi Wildman,’ says a voice from high above her. ‘Are you in distress?’

There is a pair of sparkly blue legs attached to the voice, but even without them, Naomi would have known who it was. She looks up and smiles. ‘Hi, Seven. I’m not in distress, I’m just trying to get to Neelix.’ An idea strikes. ‘You’re tall. Will you help me?’ She hears her mother’s voice in her head, sees her stern expression, and adds, ‘Please?’

Seven arches an eyebrow in that way she has and Naomi holds her breath, trying her best to look patient and grown up. After what feels like a long time, Seven says, ‘Very well. Approximately 67% of the ship’s crew went off-duty at 1700 hours and are now gathered here; in the interest of efficiency, I recommend that you take my hand.’

‘Very well,’ Naomi echoes, as she slips her hand into Seven’s. It’s the Borg hand, and the metal is cool but not cold.

Seven does not shout for Neelix (not that Naomi thought she would). Seven isn’t really the shouting type. Instead, she stays right where she is, in the middle of the mess hall, and looks around. Then she starts walking in the direction of the side doors, away from the galley. Naomi goes with her. ‘Target acquired,’ she says in her best Seven of Nine-voice, but the mess hall is noisy as well as crowded and Seven can’t hear her.

Or maybe she can, because she looks down at Naomi and asks, ‘Where is Ensign Wildman?’

‘She had to work late,’ Naomi says. ‘Some experiment went wrong in the science lab so she told me to go find Neelix and have something to eat and stay with him until she can leave.’

Seven has this way of walking that makes people move out of the way like a wave has pushed them, a powerful wave like in that holodeck program called China Beach where Mom sometimes takes her. When they reach the galley, Seven drops Naomi’s hand, and Naomi tries not to be disappointed until she realises why she did it.

Neelix has one arm tangled up in his apron, the other juggling a large tray of food. There is also what looks like a serving spoon sticking out the back of his collar, and a large blob of something creamy smeared over the tuft of his hair. Naomi might laugh, if it were anyone else, but with Neelix she’s always too worried that he might get distracted and break something if she does. Plus, she knows he’s more sensitive than he pretends to be, and she wouldn't want to hurt _his_ feelings. He’s still her favourite babysitter ever, and her friend.

It’s okay, though: when Neelix reaches around to grab the spoon from out of his shirt, Seven leans around him and takes the tray out of his hands, placing it safely on the counter before the ship’s artificial gravity can take control.

‘Oh, thank you, Seven. You arrived just in time, or I might have lost a perfectly delicious batch of my latest creation – would you care to try some?’ He points to the tray, and Seven peers down at it. She doesn't look very sure.

Naomi stretches up as high as she can on the tips of her toes to see it, but the counter is still a little too high; she gives a yelp of surprise, delighted, when Seven uses one arm to hoist her up. The stuff in the tray is foamy-looking and squishy and bright blue like Flotter. ‘What is it?’ she asks, trying not to giggle.

‘A new recipe I invented some days ago, and just perfected last night, made with the mashed fruit and leaves of the _jarmelan_ bush – you remember, Seven, the one we harvested so much of on that—’

‘I recall the expedition,’ says Seven over the top of him, ‘as well as your boundless enthusiasm at the discovery.’ She puts Naomi down and stands with her hands linked behind her back. Naomi copies her. ‘I have no doubt that sampling your “creation” would be… an experience, but I do not require nutritional sustenance at this time.’

‘Oh,’ Neelix says, looking disappointed. ‘You’re certain?’

‘Indeed,’ Seven says. Then she adds, ‘Perhaps tomorrow.’

Neelix beams. ‘But surely you, Naomi, are in need of some nutritional sustenance! Do try some!’ He holds the tray out in front of her. Naomi stares at it. Mom _did_ say she should find Neelix and have something to eat, and she is hungry, but she really doesn’t want to eat something that looks like Flotter. She is trying to work out how to say no and still be polite when Seven starts talking.

‘I understand that Ensign Wildman has been detained in the science lab, and that you have been assigned to the task of supervising her offspring until her return.’ Seven looks around. ‘As you are clearly occupied with your duties here, I would volunteer to temporarily replace you in the capacity of “babysitter”, assuming all parties are in agreement.’

‘You would?’ Neelix asks.

Naomi looks up. ‘You would?’

‘I would,’ Seven says. ‘I will contact Ensign Wildman and ensure that the arrangement is acceptable to her.’ She steps aside to do so, and over the line, Naomi hears Mom saying “thanks” and “if you’re sure” and “that would be great”. She grins. Mom know she likes Seven.

When Seven steps back, she says, ‘Neither the decibel-level nor the population of this venue are conducive to the healthy consumption and digestion of nutritional matter. I believe it would be prudent for me to accompany Naomi Wildman to her quarters and supervise her there.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Neelix says. ‘End of the month, many of the crew out of replicator rations… it is awfully busy in here today. Naomi?’

‘Yes?’

‘That’s all right with you, isn’t it? You’re happy to go with Seven?’

‘Of course I am,’ Naomi says. ‘Seven is my friend.’

Neelix and Seven both look sort of surprised by that, which Naomi doesn’t really understand, but then Neelix smiles and says, ‘Have fun, then! Goodnight!’

They say goodnight back and head for the mess hall doors. When they reach the quiet, empty corridor, Naomi asks, ‘Why was Neelix surprised that I want to go with you?’

Seven has been walking with her usual speed, but she slows down a bit to talk to Naomi. ‘Mister Neelix is undoubtedly aware that I have no significant experience in the field of childcare. I am… unlike the other members of this crew, who have known you since your birth. I believe he was merely concerned that you may be uncomfortable in my presence.’

‘That’s silly,’ Naomi says. 

Seven raises an eyebrow. ‘You do know that I used to be Borg.’

‘Sure,’ Naomi says, shrugging, ‘but you’re not anymore. It’s not like you can ass… assa… assimilate me or something. Why would I be uncomfortable?’

Naomi really wants to know, but Seven doesn’t answer her, just says, ‘Come. I intend to return you to your quarters.’

‘How do you know where my quarters are?’

‘I have memorised the ship’s layout and specifications,’ Seven says. ‘I know the location of all crew quarters, as well as all departments and the Jeffries tubes linking them.’

‘Where are your quarters?’

‘I have no quarters.’

‘Then where do you sleep?’

‘In the cargo bay. And I do not sleep, I regenerate.’

‘Why?’

‘The Borg implants in my body require it.’

‘Does it hurt?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Does it hurt you to sleep?’

‘No,’ Naomi says. ‘Well, only if I have a bad dream. Or if I fall off the bed. But usually no.’

‘Regeneration is similar.’

‘Will you go back to the cargo bay after my mom comes back?’

‘Later this evening,’ Seven says. ‘I first intend to return to Astrometrics to analyse the data produced by the level two diagnostic I began at 1600 hours.’

But as soon as she hears the word “Astrometrics”, Naomi stops walking. ‘Can we go there now?’

‘For what purpose?’

‘I like star charts. I like seeing where we are in space compared to everything else.’ She shrugs, embarrassed, and admits, ‘And Astrometrics isn’t as scary as the bridge.’

Seven stares at her for a few seconds and Naomi tries not to fidget. Then Seven says, ‘You must first consume your evening meal. And we will remain only until 1830 hours, or until your mother returns.’

‘But we can go?’

‘Yes,’ Seven says.

Naomi grins. ‘Thanks, Seven!’ She hugs her around the hips, and Seven is stiff at first but then pats her on the head. ‘You’re the best,’ Naomi tells her.

Seven raises an eyebrow.

*

Naomi had hoped Seven might forget to make her eat – star charts are more exciting than food, even when she’s hungry – but she should have known Seven wouldn’t forget to do something, especially when she already told Mom she would.

Now, they are standing in front of the replicator in Wildman Central (she has to explain that that’s what Mom calls their quarters), and Seven is staring at the list of pre-programmed dishes. ‘Name a meal you habitually consume at this time.’

Naomi thinks about what she knows for sure is stored in the replicator’s memory. ‘Ktarian fruit tart and peppermint ice-cream,’ she tries.

Seven stares at her. ‘Name another,’ she says.

Naomi sighs. ‘Chicken and vegetable soup. And tomato juice.’

Seven turns to the replicator and says, ‘One chicken and vegetable soup, and one glass of tomato juice. Child portion.’ She taps something into the replicator and it beeps, then Naomi’s dinner materialises in front of them. Seven carries it to the table for her and Naomi climbs into her chair.

‘Rations deducted from account Seven-gamma-zero-two,’ says the computer.

Naomi looks at Seven. ‘Why did you use your rations instead of ours?’

Seven looks uncomfortable. She is standing beside the table with her hands behind her back. ‘Your mother indicated that her rations account will remain depleted until the new cycle begins in two days. The options available in the mess hall were… unappealing. As I do not require rations, but still possess all those allotted to me, it was efficient to utilise the amount required to produce your meal.’

Seven uses a lot of big words in complicated sentences, but when she concentrates, Naomi can understand her. She understands her now. ‘Thanks, Seven,’ she says. Then, ‘I really didn’t want to eat Flotter.’

Seven doesn’t smile, everybody knows that, but she does lift her eyebrow and tilt her chin in that way that almost means the same thing.

When she’s eaten all her soup and recycled the bowl and spoon, Naomi takes Seven’s hand again and they head to Astrometrics. A couple of people look at them funny when they pass, but Naomi just stands up straighter and closer to Seven to show that she’s her friend.

Seven’s diagnostic has ended, and she goes right to her workstation to analyse the results, but she also does something to the controls on the other console and lets Naomi sit there, on a high stool where she can zoom in and out of the star charts and see everywhere they’ve been and where they’re going. She loves to read about all the interesting things in the solar systems they’ve already charted, like nebulas and red giants and L-class moons and M-class planets with more water than land.

She asks lots and lots of questions but Seven doesn’t get mad, just answers them or, sometimes, tells her to check her console and work it out herself. That’s the most fun of all, when she realises the answer was right in front of her all along, and she finds it without any help.

At 1822 hours, Mom comms Seven to say she’s on her way back, and Naomi’s secretly kind of disappointed. She exits the star chart program as slowly as possible, then turns off the terminal as slowly as possible, and she would slide out of her chair as slowly as possible, too, except Seven lifts her up and puts her on the ground. Then she stares at her.

‘Do you not wish to return to your mother?’

‘It’s not that,’ Naomi says. She frowns. ‘I was just having fun, that’s all.’

Seven blinks. ‘I am… pleased that you did not find the activity unstimulating. I do not believe stellar cartography to be the favoured pastime of most children.’

Naomi has heard stuff like that all her life, so she just shrugs. ‘I’m not like most children. I live on a starship, remember?’

‘Indeed,’ Seven says.

They walk out of the lab in silence, Naomi looking back once and sending the console a mental wish that she’ll be able to visit it soon. ‘Can I come hang out with you in Astrometrics again?’

‘In the event that you require supervision.’

‘And other times?’

‘To which “other times” are you referring?’

‘Can I come visit you there sometimes just because?’

Seven pauses in front of Wildman Central. ‘Because of what?’

‘Because it’s fun?’

Seven doesn’t speak again right away, but when she does, she says, ‘If your mother approves, then… yes. You may.’

‘I think she will,’ Naomi says, grinning. ‘She says she loves me but it’s nice to get me out of her hair sometimes.’

‘A curious turn of phrase,’ says Seven, ‘but comprehensible nonetheless.’

Naomi punches in the door code and runs in to greet Mom, who comes to the door with Naomi hanging off her legs. She smiles at Seven. ‘Thanks for watching her, Seven,’ Mom says. ‘I really appreciate it.’

‘You are welcome. She consumed one child’s portion of chicken and vegetable soup and a small glass of tomato juice in your absence.’

‘And then we went to Astrometrics!’ Naomi exclaims. ‘And Seven was working on a diagnostic analysis but she let me use the other console and I got to look at all the star charts from the last few solar systems and—’

‘Wow,’ Mom says, interrupting her with a laugh, ‘I can see you have a lot to tell me. Thanks again,’ she says to Seven.

‘Thanks, Seven,’ Naomi adds, before Mom has to tell her.

Seven looks from Mom to Naomi and says, ‘It was… my pleasure. Should you require my “babysitting” services in the future, you may request them.’

Mom smiles a big smile and says, ‘I might just do that.’

As she changes into pyjamas and cleans her teeth, Naomi tells Mom excitedly all about what she did and learnt and saw in Astrometrics, and all about how Seven let her ask as many questions as she wanted and never got tired or mad, and how Seven was smart enough not to fall for it when Naomi tried to get her to replicate dessert for dinner. (Mom doesn’t find that one so funny.)

She snuggles down into bed with Flotter – not the food – and thinks that of everything she told, she still has a secret: that she now has a new favourite babysitter ever.


End file.
